


the ungentle kingdom

by SearchingforSerendipity



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Crossover, Gen, i mean it's prob not canon but it could be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 05:31:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8956342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SearchingforSerendipity/pseuds/SearchingforSerendipity
Summary: Josie wasn't the name she was given at birth. Or maybe it was. It depends on your definition of names, and births.That first name was too heavy with gold and grief and distant, secret stardust. Susan was a name for a queen, and there is no outright monarchy in Night Vale. Anyone found discussing monarchy was offered a social call card from Old Woman Josie out by the car lot, and they were quickly dissuaded from such a notion.





	

Josie wasn't the name she was given at birth. Or maybe it was. It depends on your definition of names, and births.

That first name was too heavy with gold and grief and distant, secret stardust. Susan was a name for a queen, and there is no outright monarchy in Night Vale. Anyone found discussing monarchy was offered a social call card from Old Woman Josie out by the car lot, and they were quickly dissuaded from such a notion. 

Josie (from Josephine, female form of Joseph, shortened to Jo like Lucy's favorite character from Little Women) was an old woman with old hands. Her face was lined and dignified, and she was known in the pitfall of danger that was Night Vale as one of the lead players in the slow, careful game of power between factions. The Sheriff's Secret Police had tried to recruit her in her youth, and even now they knew her for the well of information and cunning that she was. The City Council respected her. Station Management feared her, after the talking to she gave them when they got too harsh on little Cecil Palmer.

The Vague yet Menacing Government Agency, well. The thing about Government Agencies is that they aren't very vague, or menacing, without some serious effort and strong leadership. Conveniently enough, Josie had come to Night Vale as a hardworking young woman with long and successful precious experiences in the area of totalitarian, semi-theocratic ruling from the shadows. 

The thing about Governments is that anything can be one, as long as there is a Governor with a duty to care and protect, and the Governed who accept being ruled and protected. 

Interlopers weren't welcomed easily; it had been hard, but she had let none of it show, and so seamlessly did she acclimate to the cruel marvels of Night Vale, that soon enough young Miss Josephine "Josie" No-Last-Name was head of her own starter business. She traded in secrets and blood and carefully held silences. She held the peace f the city, gave its people a justice they understood, the justice they needed. Whether they deserved it or not was up to question, but no one could deny that there were fewer senseless deaths and more safety drills. 

There was a man who gave her a name and children and good, safe quiet for many years. His death was from health-related reasons. The children came back for the funeral and asked to move in with them, in New York, Hong Kong, Vermont. Josie thanked them and said no, and did not ask them to visit more often, but reminded them that they could always come me to her. She knew what it meant to outgrow a home, to be told you can never come back. 

She didn't sleep so well these days, but her dreams were kinder than when she had been younger. The habit of sleeping alone was not so easy to fall back on, after so long. The Faceless Old Woman, an old friend and good agent, was pleasent company, but Josie was old and she missed all the beloved faces of her life, missed looking at them and kissing them and watching them age, as so many of them had not aged.

It helped to know she was not just them in the house. There were godly creatures in her porch, her rooms, the chair by her bed. They spoke her name in a language she knew well, of whispering leaves and high sunlight, patient tides and slow organic stone-sighs. They came to her because they understood her, because divine calls to divine and much as she resented it and cherished it, there was still a hint of it in Josie. Her quick wrists and soft-worded orders, the small and terrible kingdom she ruled and loved so well. 

The old woman who was once called queen and Susan and sister greeted the morning sun with a tilt of her chin, a long look at the city and the desert beyond and around. The early morning heat hanged loose and comfortable on her bones after these long undetermined years, and there was nothing unexpected about the roar of its ascent, so much like a lion's. Josie lifted her teacup and asked Erika to pass the sugar.

There was nothing traitorous in choosing to grow old and wise and strong enough to listen to the rising sun over one's own kingdom, still and terrible in the shrinking shadows. 

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://searchingforserendipity25.tumblr.com)


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